How Does It Feel To Break And Bend?
by fall-into-life
Summary: Fabrittana. The Unholy Trinity make it through their lives, one step at a time. A behind-the-scenes look at the Unholy Trinity, starting from sophomore year of high school and continuing through and beyond college.
1. Getting Caught

An hour ago, Santana had been sitting in Brittany's car, silently fuming at something Quinn had said (she might be the Head Bitch In Charge, but that didn't give her the right to get snippy for no damn reason) and plotting revenge.

Half an hour ago, Santana had been lying on Brittany's bed, half on top of her best friend, brushing her lips gently over the skin of Britt's neck and trying not to think about how relaxing it was to just kiss Brittany, molding their bodies together (she had been trying to tell herself that it was just physical, that she just needed to get off and Puck was on vacation, but then Brittany's fingers had trailed up her spine, and Santana had stopped thinking at all).

Fifteen minutes ago, Brittany had been throwing Santana's bra to the floor, nipping her collarbone before working her way south. Every time Santana started to shake, or that panicked "oh, fuck, this is totally gay" look appeared, Brittany would lean up and kiss her, and Santana would relax and let Brittany have her way.

Five minutes ago, Brittany had her way.

Two minutes ago, Quinn had walked into Santana's house, using the spare key she had been given years ago, irritated that Santana hadn't answered the door. Books in tow, she had walked upstairs, wondering what Brittany and Santana were watching that was making all that noise.

One minute ago, Quinn had walked in just as Santana threw her head back, clutching the headboard, Brittany's toned body clearly visible underneath her. "Staring" was a completely inadequate word for what Quinn did next.

Fifty-two seconds ago, Santana had whipped her head around at the sound of books hitting her floor, and gone pale when she realized she had completely forgotten about Quinn coming over to study with them.

Forty-seven seconds ago, Santana had recovered her composure and moved herself back, straddling Brittany's thighs and sneering, "either come in and close the door, or leave. Were you raised in a barn?"

Forty seconds ago, Brittany had murmured, "you can watch, you know," earning her the stares of the other two girls in the room.

Twenty-two seconds ago, Quinn had swallowed and looked down at the floor, trying to force herself to think about what was happening, instead of playing the scene she had walked into over and over in her head.

Fifteen seconds ago, Quinn had closed the door and leaned back against it, unable to meet either Brittany or Santana's eyes.

Ten seconds ago, Santana had slid a hand down Brittany's body, ignoring Quinn completely after one last suspicious look.

Five seconds ago, Brittany had locked eyes with Quinn, rocking her hips against Santana's hand.

One second ago, Quinn had take a single step toward Santana's bed.

Now, anything could happen. 


	2. Thaw

Notes: This predates, overlaps, then succeeds Getting Caught

"Hey, San?" Brittany asks, leaning her head back against Santana's bed and resting her beer between her legs.

Santana turns a page, raising an eyebrow at Cosmo's latest column and absently responding, "yeah, Britt?"

"I don't think I'm good at making out," Brittany says wonderingly.

Once the statement sinks in, she has Santana's full attention. "What?"

"Like, you said it was supposed to be fun, right?" Brittany explains, Santana swinging her legs over the side of the bed to look down at her best friend, "but I don't think I'm good at it, because it's not really fun. It's mostly just wet."

"It's not you, B," Santana says, rolling her eyes and throwing her legs back over the bed to resume reading, "it's them. Boys don't know how to do anything other than slobber all over you. You have to teach them."

Brittany gives this serious consideration for a few seconds, before asking, "but how do I know I'm doing it right?"

"How the fuck should I know?" Santana snipes, picking back up the magazine and shaking it open.

"Craig says you're really good at kissing," Brittany says calmly, unfazed by Santana's tone. She twists around to kneels at the side of the bed, beer completely forgotten. "So, maybe you could teach me?"

"What?" Santana drops the magazine for the second time that night, staring at her best friend, who is giving her _that fucking look_, "Britt, that's fucking gay."

Brittany's nose wrinkles up, her forehead creasing (and Santana does not think that Brittany is adorable, because that's even gayer than what Brittany's asking of her).

"But, San, you always explain things to me," Brittany protests with a hint of pleading in her voice, crawling up the bed toward Santana, "it's the only way I understand."

"No, Britt," Santana scoots a little to the side, tearing her eyes away from her best friend's, "making out with girls is fucking gay, and I'm not gay."

"I don't think I'm gay either," Brittany says seriously (and Santana cannot comprehend how this isn't an issue for her), "I keep falling asleep during RENT."

Santana sighs, because Brittany is trying to play the dumb card on her even though she knows Santana knows better, and Santana keeps her mouth shut, hoping Brittany will just drop it.

"Please, S?" Brittany's definitely pleading now, and Santana sighs again, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, B," Santana turns to see Brittany's eyes light up (and the only reason Santana's looking at her lips is because it's a reflex right before you kiss someone, duh), "but don't fucking tell anyone. I don't need anyone thinking I'm gay just because you need _kissing lessons_."

It's all the permission Brittany needs to lean forward, one hand landing on Santana's thigh. Her skin tingles where Brittany's hand is touching it, and Santana has just reached up to push Brittany away when their lips meet. Santana has all of a second to think that Brittany's "bad at making out" excuse has to be utter bullshit (because even Puck doesn't get her that hot, and the boy can kiss), before Brittany is on top of her, and their lip gloss is mingling, and-

[*]

They're making out again.

Santana's not even surprised any more when Brittany crawling into bed with her becomes Brittany crawling on top of her. It's become so normal that Santana doesn't even think about it, just wraps an arm around Brittany's waist and flips her so Santana's on top, and they go on kissing (it's more right than it is with anyone else, but Santana doesn't think about that).

What's not normal is Brittany palming her tit through her Cheerio top, and a moan escapes Santana's mouth (what? anyone touching her feels good, okay) before she sits up, staring down at her best friend. "What the fuck, Britt?"

Brittany doesn't explain, just stares up at her like she's being dumb, and Santana is so used to going along with that look (it's not often Brittany gets something right before Santana does, but she's never wrong when it happens, so) she responds without thinking, going back to the kiss like nothing happened.

A few seconds later, before Brittany can coax her mouth open, Santana's mind catches up, and she sits up again, staring down at Brittany, unable(/unwilling) to understand what just happened.

"What the fuck, Britt?" comes tumbling out of her mouth before she remembers she already said that, and she rolls off Brittany, heart racing.

Brittany comes up behind her, one leg on either side of Santana's, her front pressed to Santana's back. Santana relaxes a little despite herself, breathing in Brittany's scent, and relaxes more when Britt's warm hands slip in under her top and start massaging away the tension in her lower back (and enjoying it doesn't make it gay. Before the Cheerios got their own masseuse, everyone agreed that Brittany gave the best back massages, and Santana has back problems, okay).

"I thought you'd like it," Brittany says softly, kneading out a knot in Santana's back. She says it low enough that Santana has an excuse to ignore it, but there's no ignoring the lips pressed to the side of her neck, and Santana stands up, walking toward the door.

"I'm going to Puckerman's," she says roughly, chills racing through her that have nothing to do with Puck, leaving her best friend to curl up with a pillow, shaking.

(Later, when Puck slips his hand up her Cheerios top, she slaps his hand away and tells him to keep his hand off the merchandise.)

[*]

The next time Brittany kisses her, it's at one of Puck's parties.

A jolt of panic runs through her, and she's about to push Britt away (there are people. fucking. watching.) when a slurred catcall from Puckerman stops her, "woo, Lopez!"

She steals a glance at Puck when Brittany pulls back a little. He and Matt are staring (confusion in Matt's eyes, straight up horniness in Puck's), Mike's trying not to, and no one else seems to care. Something about doing this for an audience feels wrong, but then Brittany's soft lips are on her neck, and Santana comes to the conclusion that there's nothing gay about making out with her best friend if it's for the boys.

(And if Brittany's hand slips up her top on the side she knows no one can see, Santana ignores it, because everyone knows Brittany gets handsy when she's drunk, and even Santana is not so huge a bitch as to call her best friend on being a friendly drunk in front of half the school.)

It's a few parties later, and they're stumbling toward a bedroom with Puck, who decides suddenly that he has to go take a piss right the fuck now, leaving them to fumble their way toward the room on their own.

They fall into bed together, giggling drunkenly. Brittany pulls Santana on top of her, and Santana stops giggling when Brittany hauls her head down to kiss her.

Puck will be joining them soon, and everyone knows he's totally into girl-on-girl so Santana doesn't say anything when Brittany starts pulling her top off. The closer they look to taking things into their own hands, the crazier it'll drive Puckerman she reasons(/rationalizes).

Brittany fumbles a little getting Santana's bra off, and a thoroughly drunk Santana laughs, thinking to herself that there's no way they're gay, because lesbians are, like, good at that shit.

They're almost completely naked, and Brittany's hands are everywhere, but it's okay because any second Puckerman will walk in and join them, and Santana will smirk and ask what took him so long, and everything will be fine (and she comes to the realization that she's really fucking drunk).

Puckerman doesn't come. (Santana does.

She never came with Puck.)

[*]

Santana wakes up the next morning comfortable, warm, and in a bed that isn't hers.

she looks around blearily, realizes that she's naked, Brittany's naked, Puckerman is nowhere to be seen, and she has a throbbing headache. Her first response is to panic and wrench herself away from Brittany (not gay not gay not gay), and she ends up sprawled across the hardwood floor, trying to clutch her head and her right hip at the same time.

"San?" Brittany pokes her head over the side of the bed, blinking sleepily, "come back to bed."

"Can't, Britt," Santana grits, hoping she didn't seriously injure her hip, because trying to explain to her father how that happened is not a conversation she's having.

A blanket lands over her, and Santana freezes, confused. The blanket is followed a few seconds later by a warm body, and Santana is suddenly hit by how fucking cold the floor is.

Her hip hurts, her head is fucking killing her, and it's fucking cold, so Santana focuses on falling back asleep next to (and entwined with) a warm body (instead of how Brittany smells and how she's pretty sure she had gay sex with her best friend last night).

It starts happening at every football/Cheerio party:

She and Brittany will get drunk, Puck will get more drunk, and he'll proposition them. They accept, the three of them stumble to a bedroom, Puckerman passes out. Santana pretends not to notice, she and Brittany have (mind-blowing) sex, and in the morning Puck makes them promise to tell everyone they totally had a threesome.

Santana starts looking forward to it (she tells herself it's because Puckerman will eventually stop passing out like a pussy), and when she and Brittany show up at Matt's uncle's and Puck's not there, she's automatically pissy. Puck invited them to this fucking party, and she knows what he wanted (and knows what she wants), and she did not show up to watch Matt and Mike have a drunken dance-off in the kitchen.

(Seriously, though, Matt can _move_. She's not ashamed of having a thing for dancers because hello flexibility, and wonders for about half a second why she never tapped that. Oh, right, because he's like her brother and that would be disgusting. Carry on.)

(When Brittany wants to stay) Santana decides a party is a party and booze is booze, but when she spots Dave Karofsky in the living room, she stops in her tracks. The Cheerios all hate Karofsky, and since the one thing Noah Puckerman does not do is sausage fests, Santana had gotten used to attending parties without him (and the look on Brittany's face when he fucks with them hurts, but the look when Santana lays people out is worse so-).

"Oh, hell to the no," she hisses, stalking into the kitchen to grab Brittany, because they are the fuck out of there.

The first thing Santana sees is Brittany's ass as she leans over the kitchen counter to pour shots into shot glasses in the sink itself - if there's one thing they've all learned, it's that Brittany will spill the booze at some point, but since she likes to pour and she's a fucking ninja when she's drunk, it's better to just teach her safe pouring habits - and Santana's mouth goes dry (it's because Brittany has tequila, she tells herself unconvincingly).

Brittany finishes pouring, and turns around with two golden shots in her hand, smiling happily when she sees Santana. "Look what I found, San."

Dave Karofsky constantly calling them "the Queerios" is suddenly the least important thing in the world, because Brittany has tequila shots, and everyone worth knowing at McKinley knows that the only way to drink tequila is with body shots (and everyone who comes to Matt's parties knows that Santana and Brittany will only do them off each other or, sometimes, Santana will do one off Puck and Britt will do one off Matt).

It's five shots later, and the drunks have goaded her into sprinkling the salt down Brittany's cleavage. It would have been impossible in their uniforms, but even if the football players are surgically attached to their letterman's jackets, Santana wants to look a little hotter during the weekend parties than her Cheerios uniform would allow, and Brittany is... Brittany (and Santana's trying not to stare down her low-cut shirt).

Santana licks off the salt (but it's not Brittany that's getting her hot, she's just a horny drunk), tips back her drink, and leans in to suck the lime from Brittany's lips. She's just about to pull away when Brittany locks her arms around Santana's neck, and a simple body shot becomes them making out in the kitchen to applause and catcalls.

Seconds later, Brittany turns her head and spits the lime into the kitchen sink (and Santana digs her nails into her palm to stop herself from leaning forward and licking Brittany's neck, and she'll find the crescent marks in her palm the next day and pretend they don't exist), and then they're really kissing up against the counter, and even though Santana knows Matt and some of the other football players are still watching (so it's okay that her hands are gripping Britt's ass like it's the only thing keeping her anchored to the ground), there's something different about this time, something she can't quite put her finger on.

At some point Brittany starts tugging her upstairs, and Santana's vaguely aware that there's something missing, but when Brittany locks the door behind them and backs her into Matt's bed, she stops trying to remember what it is.

[*]

Puck does this thing for a while where he doesn't show up at any of the parties, and Santana and Brittany stop going when he does. He says it's because Matt pissed him off, and Santana says it's because Karofsky has started showing up (and they both know the other is lying, they just don't care enough to know the truth), so she and Brittany start getting drunk in her room instead.

Brittany has always been an up-close-and-personal drunk, and she's so warm that she and Santana (have the perfect excuse to) curl up on her bed together, passing a bottle of whatever between the two of them.

The first time it happens, Brittany takes the last swallow of the vodka and turns to face Santana, pressing their lips together.

Santana goes with it for a second before pulling back, demanding, "Britt, what the fuck-" but Brittany rolls on top of her before she can finish, nibbling on her lip and reaching a hand down to press her thumb into the hollow of Santana's hip (and Santana moans, bucks, and wraps her arms around Brittany's waist).

If she thought about it (not that she dares to), she would blame vodka and habit, but alcohol makes it easy not to think (and makes it easier to claim she doesn't remember), and Brittany never brings it up. They keep having drunk sex (and if she tells herself enough times she doesn't remember it, then she won't, and it won't count), and it has nothing to do with why she stops calling Puckerman as much.

[*]

Santana knows that Puck's absence has everything to do with Quinn, but she doesn't have any proof, and she only bothers to notice (and doesn't really care despite that) because if she had proof, it would be something to hold over Quinn's head.

Puck's been trying not to chase after Quinn (like Santana should be chasing after Brittany) for as long as Santana can remember, and while she understands any guy wanting to fuck the captain of the Cheerios, he is definitely barking up the wrong tree. Nothing screams "closet case" like making your boyfriend pray every time he gets a little hot and bothered.

(Brittany says it's none of her business but) Santana starts getting Quinn to come over and "study" with them. She knows Quinn wouldn't bother if she didn't need the Spanish help, but they both know that Quinn learns much faster with Santana teaching, and Santana will actually teach when Brittany's there.

It's just to cockblock Puck (because she tells herself she's jealous, even though they haven't fucked in weeks), but it's also kind of to keep Quinn's grades up, because getting captain of the Cheerios just because Quinn can't conjugate a verb without Santana using it to insult her first? Pussy victory.

The first time Quinn walks in on them (having sex) is the first time Brittany manages to get her clothes off without a drop of alcohol in either of them, and if bitchiness wasn't a reflex by this point in her life, Santana would have broken down completely, and if there's one thing worse than getting caught (having gay sex with your best friend), it's losing it completely in front of the HBIC.

Now Quinn is just standing there, staring at them, her eyes glued to Brittany's, and Santana has no fucking clue what to do. If Santana's being honest with herself - and why the fuck not, it's not like her reputation isn't completely fucking wrecked at this point anyway - Brittany's skin feels amazing against hers, and she's fighting the urge to lick Brittany off her fingers.

With Quinn in the room, she can't do anything (can't rationalize, can't forget, because Quinn is there and Quinn is not Brittany, people _listen_ when Quinn talks) and her heart is thudding nonstop in her chest as she waits.

Santana feels like the silence should be broken by Brittany saying something so random it breaks the tension, but for once she's quiet, the hand Quinn can't see rubbing soothing circles against Santana's side (and looking back, Santana will know Brittany is _handling_ her, and it doesn't bother her like it would have at the time).

Quinn takes a deep breath. She straightens her spine, reaches a hand down to smooth her skirt, and turns around. Santana watches in disbelief as Quinn picks up her books, strides smoothly to the side of Santana's bed, and sits down, leaning against Santana's comforter.

Brittany pushes lightly at Santana's thighs, and she rolls off of Brittany before she can think about it, watching Brittany curl up on her side facing Quinn, scanning the Spanish text over her shoulder.

"Whatever," Santana mutters under her breath, completely at a loss, and stalks into her adjacent bathroom to take a shower (and even though washing Brittany off her skin feels wrong, she doesn't have a clue what she's supposed to be doing, so).

When she comes back out - naked, because all her clothes are in her bedroom, and Santana is not about to wear a towel into her own room just because Quinn's in it - the scent of sex is still heavy in the air, and Brittany has somehow coaxed Quinn into the bed with her. Quinn's textbook propped up in the crook of her elbow and Brittany is spooning her, still naked and reading the text aloud in flawless Spanish.

Santana snorts and starts walking across the room to pick out something to wear when Brittany catches her eye, and Santana stops in her tracks. Brittany's monologue trails off, and she jerks her head behind her. Santana can't believe what's happening (she just started trying to build back up her rationalizations in the shower; she's not gay, she's just-) but Brittany's eyes are saying please and Quinn's eyes aren't saying anything at all because they're fixed on the book in front of her, and in the end, it's Quinn's breathing, shallower than normal and taken in too-long, controlled bursts, that convinces Santana to climb into bed with them. Quinn's breathing says she doesn't know what's going on either, and maybe, maybe Santana can salvage this.

She's still tense as she presses her slightly damp front against Brittany's back, but when Brittany goes back to narrating, she reaches back for Santana's hand and pulls her closer, intertwining their fingers, and Santana starts to drift off despite herself.

Quinn doesn't say a word all night until she has to leave, but the next time Santana invites her over to study, she shows up early and lets herself in quietly.


	3. Inclusion

**Notes: Like Thaw, this chapter predates, overlaps, then succeeds Getting Caught.**

Santana is oblivious, Brittany is more manipulative than anyone gives her credit for, and Quinn knows them both better than they think.

This is how they work.

This is how they've always worked.

Quinn knows that Santana and Brittany are going to end up as something other (more, better) than friends from the start. It's not something she really understands, not at first, but the first time she sits down to think about it – their freshman year, when she catches Santana staring at Brittany's ass (Quinn only catches her because she's trying not to do the same thing) – she can't think of a time she didn't know. Santana has always had anger management issues, and where Quinn has iron-clad discipline and religion, Santana has Brittany (later, Quinn will think to herself that Brittany _is_ Santana's religion, but she and her parents' God haven't fallen out that far just yet).

She's been watching them lay out the framework for what feels like forever.

She knows that the only reason Brittany speaks perfect Spanish is because Santana would read her the Spanish-language version of all their books until they got too old for it (Santana looking down at the book, Brittany looking at her, and Quinn looking at the both of them and _aching_) and because the only way Santana will watch old Disney movies with Brittany is in Spanish (she claims it makes it easier to fall asleep to them if they're in Spanish, but Quinn spent too many nights watching Brittany whisper questions up to where Santana lay curled around her perfectly awake, and Santana whisper answers back, the two of them so wrapped up in each other they forgot Quinn was even there).

She knows the only reason Santana's not in juvie is because Brittany won't let her get into too many fights (her hand on Santana's arm, Santana relaxing inch by inch at Brittany's touch, Quinn's gut churning), and that Santana joined Glee Club for Brittany and not for Coach Sylvester (for an atmosphere where no one cares they're practically sharing a seat, with Quinn two seats down carving a groove into the chair with her rail-straight spine and clenched fingers cutting into plastic).

Girls' nights that used to be the three of them start just being Brittany disappearing to Santana's house, or vice-versa, and it's not hard to connect the odd bruise or hickey with the nights neither of them are answering their phone and Puckerman is at Finn's, annoying the hell out of Quinn, instead of with Santana (she's grateful he's there to take up Finn's attention, but at the same time, the looks he's giving her...).

The first time Quinn gets solid evidence is at one of Puck's parties. Quinn has come to the conclusion she's really very fond of wine coolers, and she's on her way back from getting herself another when she hears Puck cat-call, "woo, Lopez!"

Hoping Santana isn't trying to do a kegstand with Matt again – Quinn tells herself she won't drive Santana home after this time, but she knows it's a lie – Quinn turns the corner and stops dead in her tracks.

Puck and Matt are staring at Santana and Brittany (so is Quinn, and all for the same reason), who are in a chair barely big enough for the two of them and kissing like it's the end of the world. Quinn watches, forcing herself to breathe evenly, as Brittany lowers her lips to Santana's neck, and when Santana's head leans back, Brittany's eyes meet Quinn's over the chair arm.

If it were possible, Quinn would freeze all over again. Brittany's eyes are piercing, holding hers tightly as she lightly (reverently) kisses Santana's neck, and Quinn knows she's the only one who can see when Brittany slides a hand under Santana's shirt. She watches as Brittany uses her body to hide her hand from the boys, and Quinn presses her lips together tightly as she takes in a show even Santana doesn't know Quinn can see.

When Quinn sees Puck open his mouth out of the corner of her eye, she knows he's going to break the moment, and she steps fully into the room. How she knows, and why she cares, are beyond Quinn at the moment, but she's sure Puck inserting himself into this would ruin it, and she speaks up, sure to sway a little as she demands bitchily, "where's Finn?"

His lecherous eyes are on her instead (there's something beneath that in his eyes, something Quinn doesn't want to deal with because trying to make things good with Finn is hard enough right now), and his smirk says he knows his best friend will be getting laid tonight. Quinn internally rolls her eyes at how easy Puck is to read, and lets herself be led.

The last thing she sees before she leaves the room is gratitude in Brittany's eyes before she claims (_claims) _Santana's lips again.

[*]

Finn and Puck are their own problem.

Quinn knows that Finn is the one who will stay with her past high school, the one who can give her the picket-fence, the two-car garage, the 2.5 children. Finn, with his puppy-dog charm and careful handling of her physical boundaries, will be good for her. Finn is a good Christian, the head of the football team, her parents love him (and, she'll think to herself later, he would have been so easy to cheat on).

Puck is all slick charm and bad-boy appeal. He's Jewish, he has a nipple piercing, he plays guitar like he was born to it – he's everything her first affair should be, but not boyfriend material.

It's not so much that she's attracted to him so much as he always knows what to say. He knows her fat days like someone put them in his phone calendar (and the days she's almost physically sick from watching Santana and Brittany be Santana-and-Brittany), and always finds her when Finn can't, talking to her like she's a person. On those days, it's just Puck and Quinn, not Puckzilla and the Head-Bitch-In-Charge, and Quinn feels like maybe she's actually worth looking at (like Santana looks at Brittany).

Finn is good for her reputation, and he's too self-centered to see the disgust in her eyes when she feels his erection hot against her thigh and insist they take a prayer break. Sometimes Quinn considers thanking the Lord for Finn being too dumb to see through the charade, but she knows her parents would say He doesn't approve of why she doesn't want that part of Finn anywhere near any part of her.

Instead, she prays that one day she won't need to take a prayer break to stop from throwing up when she remembers who she's kissing.

[*]

Quinn knows that Brittany is still getting Santana drunk enough to kiss her at parties, but she's stopped going to as many because, if she's being honest with herself, Finn gets less appealing (if that's possible) when he's been drinking, and Quinn's not sure if it's that Puck gets more charming when he's been drinking or that Quinn just becomes an easier target when _she's_ been drinking, but either way, it can't lead anywhere good.

The first party she does go to in a while she spends almost entirely attached to Finn's hip, watching Puck watch her and get good and drunk (his eyes say it's her fault, but that's just something else to add to the list of things Quinn can't deal with right now). She watches him proposition Santana and Brittany, watches Santana accept and Brittany follow Santana's lead with a sad smile no one but Quinn catches, and something in her chest twists when they go upstairs.

She makes herself wait a full thirty seconds, just long enough for the drunks around her to forget how long ago the three of them left, before excusing herself to the bathroom, planting a reluctant kiss on Finn's cheek. He beams tipsily up at her, and she straightens her spine, forcing herself to smile back (he's a good guy, he is, he's just...).

The door to Puck's room is cracked, and Quinn resists the urge to look inside – until she hears Santana's laughter, low and slurred. Gritting her teeth, Quinn nudges the door open a little, nearly dropping her drink when she sees Brittany throwing Santana's bra off the side of Puck's bed, leaning forward to press wet, open-mouthed kisses against Santana's skin.

Brittany's eyes flick toward her, and Quinn realizes she must have made some sort of noise. It's kind of insane how expressive the girl's eyes can be, especially since she can't say anything Quinn understands when she actually speaks, but Quinn knows exactly what she's asking.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn reaches in, locks Puck's door, and closes it. The last thing she sees of them is Brittany mouthing 'thank you' with lips still half-pressed against Santana's skin.

The last thing she wants to do right now is go back to sitting in Finn's lap (not when her enetire body is aching with the thought of what her best friends are doing), so she detours to the bathroom, only to find Puck passed out in the bathtub. She sighs, rubs her hand across her face, and goes downstairs to tell Finn (at least he'll be too preoccupied with Puck to try kissing her).

[*]

When Puck's mom calls her up out of the blue to watch Sarah, Quinn is caught between relieved and nervous. Babysitting Sarah means she'll have an excuse not to go to any of the football/Cheerio parties, but it also means that any weekend there isn't a party, Puck will be there.

There won't be any drinking involved as long as Sarah's in the room, but Puck doesn't need to feed her alcohol to make her feel better than Finn ever has, and Quinn knows Finn's friendship probably isn't enough to stop Puck from seriously trying to talk her into bed (and she knows if he catches her on a bad enough day, it won't take much to make her want to do anything to feel a fraction of what Brittany does).

Just being around Puck (Puck, who seems to see her and not the person she's created for herself) is enough to make her lower her guard some, and when most of her weekends spent babysitting Sarah end in pillow fights and tickle wars with Puck, she stops worrying about him staying home from partying to talk to her, and starts enjoying his company.

For the first time in a long time, she's not thinking about Santana and Brittany, or about keeping Finn in check without losing his interest entirely. She's hanging out with Noah Puckerman, and they've somehow become friends.

The Quinn that's kept sharp by Santana and kept aware of her personal space by Finn would have noticed. The HBIC Quinn would never have let Puck in even a little. The good Christian girl her parents raised would have been politely distant and just collected her money at the end of the night.

The Quinn that Puck brings out is completely surprised when he kisses her. His hands are warm on the sides of her face, and his lips are soft (like a girl's would be, if she could only-) and Quinn melts against him, comfortable like she's never been with anyone else.

The Puck everyone at McKinley knows would have tried to take her skirt off, but the Puck that gives his sister piggyback rides and makes Quinn BLTs without her asking just keeps them there, sharing space and breath, not even trying to slide his tongue into her mouth.

They stay like that until her phone rings. They both know it's Santana's ringtone, and they jump apart, staring at each other, her phone fading into silence.

For a second, Quinn sees the possibility of something good between them. Then she's sees his erection straining against his jeans (bites her tongue against nausea), and Santana calls back, and the moment is broken.

That night, she crawls into bed with knees red from prayer and eyes red from tears.

[*]

Neither Santana nor Quinn are good at asking questions (real questions, not the rhetorical bitchy kind), but they both know Quinn is still the top bitch at McKinley, if only by a thin margin, so Santana ends up phrasing her proposition to study as a question asked on Brittany's behalf, which they both know it's not.

Quinn, in desperate need of something to fill her weekends now that she doesn't dare attend parties at Matt's uncle's house or go babysit Sarah, accepts. She would take just about any excuse to keep busy on the weekends, but it's easier to handle her father if she says she's going to go study, and unlike "studying" at Finn's, Quinn knows she'll actually learn something. Santana may be a huge bitch, but she and Brittany speak perfect Spanish, and unlike Brittany, Santana can explain the logic behind what she's saying in a way Quinn can understand.

The first few sessions go well. Quinn knows she's getting better, even though she spends the entire time keeping tight rein on herself (Santana using words Quinn doesn't understand is both infuriating and unfortunately very attractive, and Quinn learns not to look directly at her when she's speaking Spanish for just that reason) while Brittany manages Santana.

Quinn knows they spend the time before and after study sessions doing whatever is it they do they're alone (she aches to know what that is, but the knowledge would only make everything worse). It's in the small marks she can see when Brittany stretches and her top rides up, and in the languid grace with which Santana stretches out on her bed, so much more relaxed than she is at school, full of an easy smugness Santana-at-school wishes she had.

Her Spanish grade is going up, but so is her level of frustration, and one Friday during practice she completely snaps on Santana, going off on a rant that might be called Berry-esque if not for the lack of words normal people don't understand and the sheer acidity.

Less than an hour later, Quinn knocks on Santana's door, prepared for the vitriol she's going to have to deal with tonight. Part of her regrets losing it on Santana, because for once she didn't have it coming but (it's pretty much Santana's fault anyway, with her post-sex grace and the way Brittany looks at her like she's always Brittany will ever need, so) there's no way she's apologizing.

Santana doesn't answer the door or her phone, and Quinn waits all of a minute before finding the key Santana gave her years ago (back when they were all innocent and watching them together didn't hurt), pausing when she walks in the house to cock her head to the side and listen. The faint sound of something is echoing from the stairway. Quinn has no idea what they could possibly be watching that they've turned up loud enough for her to hear downstairs, because there's only one thing Brittany likes loud and what she's hearing is definitely not pop music.

As she gets closer to Santana's door, Quinn realizes it sounds like bedsprings, which just doesn't make any sense. The first thing her mind jumps to is that they're jumping on the bed (like the three of them used to) and by the time she realizes how stupid that is, and what they're likely doing instead, she's already opened the door.

It's not like she hasn't seen both of them naked. Between the locker room and the Cheerios showers, Quinn has seen them in nothing from pretty much every angle (and when she dreams, her mind recalls snapshots of Brittany's hard, flat stomach and Santana's curves).

Watching Santana rock her hips back and forth with Brittany's head buried between her legs, holding on to her headboard like it's the only thing keeping her anchored, is a long way from the Cheerios showers.

Over the years, Brittany has been the one that's caught Quinn's eye (probably because when Brittany catches her looking, she just smiles, but Santana's eyes promise either death or vicious, vicious words if Quinn's eyes linger even a second longer than necessary), but the sway of Santana's hips is hypnotizing, and Quinn's books fall from nerveless fingers.

There's fear in Santana's eyes when her head snaps around, genuine fear, and for the first time Quinn is struck by the fact that, while they're both in denial about (terrified of) essentially the same thing, Santana is at least brave enough to make love to the girl she loves, even if Quinn knows it usually takes a lot of alcohol.

Not even Santana's snappish comment can kill the heat flaring in every inch of Quinn's skin. They look so good together; Santana's deep tan playing off Brittany's paleness, Santana's curves to Brittany's tone, and Quinn tries desperately not to stare.

Brittany licks Santana off her lips (a jolt goes through Quinn, and she bites the inside of her cheek hard) and sits up, bringing her hand to rest between Santana's shoulderblades. She's completely and utterly relaxed, her eyes asking easily _why are you and Santana making this such a big deal?_ Even as her lips tell Quinn what she hadn't dared to think was a possibility.

Not even the cross at her throat can ground her against the chills these two are giving her, and Quinn flicks her eyes down to Santana's carpet, trying to re-form her usual discipline. Her parents would disown her if they ever found out about this (Quinn isn't sure what _this_ is, or what it will become, but that she knows for sure), they would tell her she's going to hell for having all these gay thoughts and- her body moves without her permission, and she's closing the door, sagging back against it like she's just run wind sprints.

A moan forces her eyes back to the bed, and Quinn looks up to see Brittany staring at her, grinding her hips against Santana's hand. Quinn's mouth goes dry, and even though she knows in some part of her mind that Santana is completely ignoring her, and that Brittany is riding her best friend's fingers, Quinn can't think of anything but Brittany's deep, half-open blue eyes boring into hers.

Brittany bites into her lip and her eyes flutter shut for a few seconds as she arches against Santana, but still Quinn can't look away. When her eyes open again, they're telling her that she could have been in the bed with them. Quinn swallows hard, feeling her hands start to shake.

The silence stretches between them, and Quinn comes to the horrifying realization that she's going to have to be the one to do something. For once, Brittany's not rescuing them by saying something completely inappropriate that she and Santana can roll their eyes at and go about their business after, and Santana is (as usual) so terrified of herself she's not going to be the one to make the first move.

Quinn lives and breathes denial. It's her first and last defense, even above and beyond bitchiness and social clout, and when old habits present a plan, she goes with it, because whatever this thing between the three of them could be, she's not ready for it (she'll think later that it's the height of irony that Brittany, the Brittany that everyone thinks is so clueless, is the one of them that's been ready for this since well before either she or Santana even considered it a possibility).

She takes a deep, steadying breath, and lets it out. The first step to control is breathing, and after she's got herself breathing in a regular pattern, she smooths her skirt reflexively, bends over to get her books, and walks to the side of Santana's bed to sit, looking ever inch the confident, self-contained cheerleader (on the inside she's a shaking mess, but denial is all about getting the outside right first).

It's all going well until Brittany reaches down to cup her chin. All the arousal from earlier floods back at the touch, and Quinn stiffens, but Brittany doesn't seem to notice. They're face-to-face before Quinn can adjust to the whiplash mood shift, and Brittany kisses her once, softly (some of Santana's taste is on Quinn's lips now, and she can't help but whine softly when she licks it away) and tugs on the top of her uniform.

Quinn allows herself to be pulled into bed next to Brittany (the logical part of her brain, the part concerned with self-preservation, is shut down completely) remembering at the last second to grab her Spanish II textbook. The taller girl presses their bodies together (they fit well, which doesn't make any sense; Brittany is both taller and built completely different) and Quinn stops herself from thinking about how her Cheerios uniform is the only thing separating Brittany's skin from hers.

Brittany starts reading the Spanish text over her shoulder, and Quinn has just about managed to focus when Brittany pulls her hair tie out and starts running her fingers through Quinn's hair. It feels better than it has with anyone else (she remembers, all of a sudden, that Brittany was the last person to do this, years ago) and Quinn relaxes back against her, letting the Spanish flow over them both.

Quinn's eyes are half-closed and she's starting to fall asleep when she hears Santana enter the room again (when did she leave?). Her peaceful mood is gone, and she stiffens, forcing herself to breathe in a regular pattern. Quinn knows that if one of them is going to break this, make all three of them think about what's going on and what it means, it's Santana, and panic threatens to take over.

She may know she's (gay) different, but there's only one way she can deal with being in bed with a naked girl after watching her two best friends have lesbian sex, and if Santana makes her think about this-

Brittany trails off into silence, and Quinn freezes, her entire being shrinking down to this moment, to waiting for Santana to ruin everything.

When Santana climbs into bed next to Brittany, Quinn doesn't relax so much as she regains the ability to turn the pages in her textbook. She can't look at either of them, but she can feel Santana's weight on the bed behind Brittany, and she feels Britt pull Santana closer, Santana's hand brushing Quinn's back, and she knows it's all she can take. Anything more, anything at all, and all of this (whatever it is) will shatter.

Before Quinn knows it, her phone alarm is chiming, telling her she has to get home soon, and she shuts her book, biting her lip.

"I have to go."

It's the first thing any of them have said in English in hours, and Quinn can't help but feel that whatever is said next will determine how they handle this from then on.

Brittany kisses the back of her neck softly (Quinn exhales and her eyes flutter half-shut), Santana snorts sleepily, and Quinn waits. When neither of them seem inclined to say anything, Brittany lightly pushes her out of bed with gentle fingers on her back, and Quinn stands unsteadily.

When Quinn steals a glance over her shoulder on the way out of Santana's room, she sees Brittany's content look, Santana's intense, unreadable gaze from over Brittany's shoulder, and for the first time in years, Quinn can look at them without feeling like there's an incredibly large divide between the three of them.

When she gets home, she stares at herself in the mirror, fingering the cross at her neck. She remembers the gentleness of Brittany's fingers running through her hair, the almost-friendly corrections Santana made to her Spanish pronunciation, and allows herself to think, for the first time in her life, that if God wants to take that from her, she doesn't want much of anything to do with Him.

(It's quickly followed by three Hail Marys and an hour of prayer, but looking back, Quinn thinks it's a start.)


	4. Lost In Translation

**Notes: Like the previous two chapters, Lost In Translation precedes, overlaps, then succeeds Getting Caught. Thanks to my awesome beta, Bella. :).**

Brittany S. Pierce is not stupid.

She just doesn't know how to make everyone else understand her.

The problem is, everyone else was born with a translator. They can take their thoughts and make them make sense to other people. Brittany can't. Her thoughts stay at that "makes perfect sense to me" level and never translate to "makes okay sense to just about everyone".

It's why her Spanish grade is so up-and-down. She can look at Santana and know she's beautiful, or her brain can shift gears and know she's _bonita_, but trying to make _bonita_mean "beautiful" doesn't work. They're two different words, from two different places in her brain, and they'll never be the same.

She knows it confuses everyone else ("Dolphins are just gay sharks" she says, because dolphins have fun and sharks just want to eat everything all the time), but she doesn't know how to explain to them, and even though Santana speaks Brittany almost as well as she speaks Spanish, even she doesn't know how to translate Brittany most of the time, and she pretends to be a bitch too often to stop and try for anyone else.

After a while, people start thinking she's sweet and nice but dumb, and anything she does is just "Brittany being Brittany" ("did you hear that Brittany and that retard Becky are friends?" people ask, and with Santana or Quinn it would be gossip, but with Brittany it's just another story, something they'll forget the next day instead of remembering every time they look at her), and she eventually realizes it's better armor than the Cheerios uniform ever could be. No one takes her seriously, but she doesn't need them to. She can do whatever she wants, and it's freeing.

She just wishes Santana had the same protection, or at least the courage to stop caring what everyone thinks.

[*]

If there's one thing that Brittany understands completely, it's Santana. Brittany knows that everyone else thinks Santana is a bad person because she makes fun of people and doesn't care who she hurts on the way to getting popular, but they don't see the San that helps Brittany ice down her calves after ballet, or smuggles in bird food so she can feed the sparrow in Brittany's locker.

The problem with understanding Santana so well is that Brittany knows Santana loves her and wants to be with her, but being with Brittany means Santana would be gay ("sleeping with girls makes you gay, Britt," she says, when she means, "being gay means people will talk") even though Brittany's pretty sure that's not how ti works, Santana is convinced of it, and starts slowly cutting her off. Sleeping tangled becomes spooning becomes barely sleeping in the same bed, and Brittany misses waking up with Santana pressed against her.

If it were just Brittany that wanted more, she would deal with it. She may not get school stuff - unless it's Science - but she knows that she and Santana are something special (she wants so badly to tell Santana that she's Brittany's lobster), and getting to kiss her isn't worth possibly losing her. The thing is, it's not just Brittany. Santana's been sneaking looks at her since middle school, and ever since they joined Cheerios, Brittany catches Santana looking at least once a week, and she's pretty sure there are other times she doesn't catch her.

At first, it's fun. In the locker room, she strips slower when she knows Santana's watching, and sometimes stops to fix her hair when she's only half-dressed. Santana's dark eyes and flushed face send a thrill through her, and Brittany stretches out her calves while Santana bites her lip and pretends not to stare. Brittany starts talking to Santana when they're in the showers, asking questions that she knows sound innocent, and Santana is adorable when she's stuttering and blushing as she tries to think of what Coach Sylvester could possibly make them do next.

Then it starts getting to Brittany as much as she can see it's getting to Santana. Santana isn't the only one flushing when Brittany pretends to struggle taking her top off, and even their fingers touching when Santana gives her a pencil in class makes heat race through Brittany's body. The boys she kisses on the side aren't enough, and she's actually in the middle of kissing one of them when the idea comes to her.

He doesn't like it when she breaks the kiss to text Santana, but she smiles, pockets the phone, and puts her hand on his thigh. He calms down immediately, and Brittany wishes Santana were as easy to manage as boys are.

[*]

Santana may not be a boy, but it's actually pretty easy to talk her into kissing Brittany for the first time. She dances along the line between acting too much like the dumb girl people think she is but Santana knows she isn't, and being her normal self who just doesn't understand things sometimes, and Santana falls for it.

Santana's thigh is warm and smooth under Brittany's hands, and they both freeze when their lips meet. Santana makes a small noise into Brittany's mouth, and her hands settle on Brittany's shoulders. Brittany leans her back against the bed, one hand coming up to rest on the side of Santana's head, her thigh slipping between Santana's.

They stay like that, lips pressed together, skin touching in new ways, for a while, when Brittany realizes Santana is shaking. She wants to break the kiss and pull away to look at Santana's face, so she can know that this is just as important to Santana as it is to her, but Santana hasn't been able to meet her eyes for days, and Brittany knows she wouldn't be able to do it now. Instead, she uses her teeth on Santana's lip, and Santana tenses, clutching at her shoulders.

Brittany's about to pull away, worried she's pushed Santana too far, when Santana's mouth opens under hers, and their tongues are sliding together. It's so hard to keep quiet, but she doesn't dare let Santana remember that this is obviously not just her teaching Brittany to kiss, and she explores Santana's mouth in silence.

Santana's lips are soft and she tastes _so_good, and Brittany knows she'll want to do this again when they're done. Santana will pretend it never happened, and Brittany will go along with it, but she knows that once she talks Santana into doing something once, it's easier to talk her into it again.

A door slams downstairs, and they jolt apart. Their eyes meet for a half-second, and Brittany knows everything Santana's not saying (_fuck, my abuela's back,_ Santana's eyes say, not, _fuck, we shouldn't have done this_) and she skips after Santana to help with the groceries, grinning wide.

[*]

Brittany is right, and it's easy to get Santana to kiss her again.

She doesn't even ask this time, just gets into bed with her and kisses her. Every time after is different than the first. Santana is on top, even if she's on the bottom when Brittany starts it (it feels good, but it would feel better if Santana weren't just on top because she needs to feel like she's in control), and she doesn't make little noises into Brittany's mouth as much, except when Brittany bites her lip.

Santana has started grinding into her a little when they're making out, and Brittany doesn't even think when she reaches a hand up to Santana's chest. Santana moans against her lips, and Brittany's heart beats faster, but then Santana sits up and looks down at her, confused but turned on, and for the first time, Brittany doesn't understand her at all.

Santana's reactions are the same as the boys Brittany kisses, only better, and she knows they want her, so why is Santana acting like Brittany did something weird? Santana doesn't say no to anyone who's at least as popular as she is, and Brittany knows Santana wouldn't want anyone to know that they're making out, but they're in Brittany's room and no one has to know.

When Santana leans back down and kisses her again, Brittany thinks it's just some weird thought Santana had all of a sudden, but then she jerks back up, and swings her body around so she's sitting on the edge of Brittany's bed.

Brittany doesn't understand why Santana's making such a big deal of this, but she knows one good way to make Santana relax, and she sits up, wrapping herself around Santana. When her best friend settles back against her, Brittany moves her hands up and into the back of Santana's Cheerios uniform, pushing her fingers into the knots in Santana's back.

It's a little easier between them now, but it's still not back to how they normally are, and Brittany fidgets. She hates it when anyone's mad at her, _especially_Santana, and when a soft apology doesn't get a response out of Santana, she kisses the side of Santana's neck.

It's the wrong thing to do, and Santana jerks away. Brittany watches her grab her purse and keys, every step sinking Brittany's heart down toward the floor.

("I'm going to Puckerman's," she says, but Brittany knows she means, "I love you and I hate it.")

[*]

"C'mon, it would be hot."

Puck's been begging them to make out for the past half an hour, and Brittany would have gotten up to be closer to Santana, where Puck wouldn't ask her anything like that, but he's been bringing both her and Quinn drinks, and she's comfortable watching Santana do a keg stand with Matt.

Quinn gives him a look that anyone else would think is mad (but Brittany knows Quinn almost thinks it's funny), and rolls her eyes, "no, Puckerman."

"Hey, I'm a gentleman, and gentlemen prefer blondes," Puck tries again, wrapping his arm around Brittany's shoulders, "and that means blonde-on-blonde action."

Brittany giggles, Puck smirks, and Quinn rolls her eyes again before getting up to sit next to Finn, who is watching the kegstand. Brittany watches her stiffly kiss him and settle under his huge arm, before her eyes turn to Santana.

"You know, you and Santana making out would be pretty hot," Puck suggests next, and Brittany almost kisses him, because he's just given her the best excuse she can think of to kiss Santana more places than just their bedrooms.

"Maybe next time," she tells him, cuddling into his warm body.

[*]

Brittany's only a little drunk by the time Puck reminds her that she promised him she would kiss Santana, but Santana has been drinking since they got there, and Brittany thinks that it's now or never.

She smiles at Puck and climbs into Santana's lap. Santana is drunk enough to just wrap an arm around Brittany's waist, and Brittany kind of wants to just stay like this. It's warm, and she's comfortable, and Santana smells like herself and vodka - but Puck is giving her the thumbs up, and she might not get a chance to do this again.

Santana's entire body stiffens when Brittany kisses her, and Brittany's a little worried about what she's going to do. Then Puck yells something at them, and Brittany pulls back. Santana's eyes move to the side, but Brittany's are on her neck, and she thinks she may as well push a little, because even though Santana knows she's not actually dumb, everyone knows Brittany is clingy when she's drunk, and she can blame it on that if Santana freaks out.

The skin on Santana's neck tastes different than her lips, and Brittany starts kissing up and down it, Santana sighing and burying her fingers in Brittany's hair. When she looks up, Quinn is watching them, and Brittany sees her almost drop her drink.

Brittany moves to the other side of Santana's neck, pressing their bodies together, and Quinn is still watching. Brittany's heart starts beating faster, and she pushes her hand up Santana's shirt, Quinn's eyes widening. It's not the first time Quinn has had that look on her face, but it's the first time Brittany understands it (_I should look away, but I can't)_.

Quinn's head turns, and she turns back into the Quinn everyone else knows, asking Puck, "where's Finn?"

Brittany looks at Puck and knows that he was about to say something that would remind Santana that there are other people in the room. Quinn rescued them from him, and Brittany smiles a little before pulling back and pressing her lips hard against Santana's. One of Santana's hands moves to Brittany's ass, and Brittany forgets all about Quinn.

[*]

People thinking she's drunk is almost as good as people thinking she's dumb, and when they're put together, Brittany finds out she can get away with just about anything. If they've both had enough to drink, she can even ask Santana to kiss her, and Santana will finish her drink, make sure the boys are watching, and they'll spend the rest of the party making out on Matt's uncle's couch.

Puck thinks it's his birthday and Christmas - Hanukkah, actually, Britt reminds herself - all put together. He cheers them on the loudest, tells them to do more, and then starts asking if he can join in. Santana will never be drunk enough to have a threesome in someone's living room, but every time Puck suggests it, Brittany can see her taking it a little more seriously, and she hates it.

It's not that she doesn't like Puck, but Brittany knows if she can keep finding ways to push Santana, she can get her naked without him. Brittany is pretty sure Santana will have to be drunk the first time, and that makes her sad enough, but she really, really doesn't want Puck to be there too. Not the first time.

When Brittany thinks that Santana might say yes sometime soon, she starts getting Puck realy drunk. She dares him to drinking contests, gets him to make her drinks she doesn't like and then gets him to drink them, and finds way to get him to do shots with Matt and Mike. She's had sex with enough drunk boys to know that they tend to fall asleep in the middle, and she wants him to fall asleep as soon as possible after Santana says yes.

One night Santana finally agrees, and Brittany follows her up, sighing to herself. It would be so much easier if Santana would just stop caring what people think and they could have sex all the time without any alcohol or boys, but this is the way Santana works.

When Puck goes to the bathroom, Brittany really wants to lock the door so he can't follow them when he's done, but she knows Santana would notice, so she just pulls them both onto the bed and gets a giggly Santana to kiss her.

Ever since they started making out at Matt's parties, Santana's kisses have been less relaxed and she's even started touching Brittany sometimes. It's been driving her crazy, having Santana's handson her skin but not between her legs, and Brittany pulls Santana close, rubbing circles into the hollow of Santana's hip.

Santana moans and sits up a little, looking down at her and whispering, "Puckerman will go crazy if he walks in on us getting our mack on."

Brittany doesn't think Santana knows she said it out loud, but she doesn't care, because that's as close to Santana actually giving her permission as she's going to get, and she sits up to take Santana's shirt off.

Her hands are shaking when she gets to Santana's bra, and Santana laughs, low and deep, before pulling Brittany up to kiss her. Brittany pulls off her own shirt, and when her skin presses up against Santana's, she can't help it - she moans into Santana's mouth.

She's expecting Santana to freak out as soon as she makes the noise, but Santana kisses her harder and drags her nails up the back of Brittany's neck, fisting her hand in Brittany's hair. Brittany whimpers, Santana grinds her hips down into Brittany's, and Brittany almost rips Santana's bra getting off.

There's a noise at the door, and Brittany looks over, her heard sinking.

It's Quinn instead of Puck, and Brittany stares for a second. Santana doesn't seem to notice Quinn, and Brittany runs her hands up her best friend's back to keep her distracted, wishing Quinn would just close the door and walk away before Santana looks over.

Quinn watches them for a few seconds before she takes a deep breath and reaches in to lock the door before she shuts it. Brittany mouths 'thank you' just before it closes, and pulls Santana down to kiss her.

[*]

Santana's in the shower and Brittany's almost asleep in her bed when Santana's phone chirps. Brittany doesn't want to get up, but it's Puck's textone, and she knows if he's asking her to come over, Santana will leave, so she looks in Santana's purse for her phone, flipping it open.

_Not going 2 party 2mrw nite_, Puck's text reads, and Brittany bites her lip. She knows that without Puck there, Santana won't want to go, and so she deletes the text. If Puck isn't there, maybe she can get Santana to herself without worrying about Puck being sober enough to be awake while they're having sex.

She puts Santana's phone back into her purse, and pretends not to know what Santana's talking about when she asks if Puck texted her while she was in the shower.

[*]

Brittany starts working on Santana before they even get to the party.

She picks out the shirt that Puck said you can "see down to her underwear" when you look down it, grabs Santana's ipod to play Rihanna's S&M when they're in the car, and Santana's flushed and looking at her every couple seconds by the time they get there.

Santana always drinks more when Brittany's pouring, but when she sees the tequila on Matt's uncle's kitchen table, Brittany doesn't think she'll need to work very hard to get Santana drunk.

When she gets two drinks poured for her and Santana, she turns around to see Santana look up from checking her out, and Brittany gives Santana one, smiling. Tonight is going to be fun, she can already tell.

They do body shots ("what else would you do with tequila?" Santana asks, her eyes locked to Brittany's, and she doesn't think anyone needs her to translate that one), and Brittany's skin is on fire where Santana's tongue licks lines down her neck, shoulders, tomach, and swirls in the hollow of her throat.

When some football player says Santana should do a shot out of Brittany's cleavage, Santana's eyes flash, and Brittany sees a little of the San she could have if Santana stopped caring about what everyone thinks. Santana takes longer licking the salt off of Brittany's chest than she needs to, and when she leans up to suck the lime out from Brittany's lips, Brittany doesn't let her pull away.

They're kissing up against the kitchen counter, and the lime is stopping her from opening her mouth for Santana, but she keeps it between them for now. She knows if they start making out now, she'll pull Santana on top of her, and Santana will either freak out or they'll have sex on the counter and - Santana's hands are on her ass, and Brittany turns her head to spit out the lime, because she needs Santana _right now._

Somehow they make it up to the upstairs bedroom, and Santnaa's confused look when Puck isn't there only lasts until Brittany pushes her onto Matt's bed and climbs on top of her. Santana smirks and flips them over, and Brittany grins. Their clothes come off faster than ever, and when they wake up the next morning, Santana cuddles into her side instead of kicking Puckerman out and getting dressed so they can leave.

[*]

The next party they go to, Karofsky is there, and Brittany asks Santana if they can leave. She wants Santana, she does, but Karofsky brings out all the ugly parts of her and Brittany doesn't want to watch Santana pick Karofsky apart and get angry drunk.

Santana shrugs at the question and grabs a bottle of vodka on their way out. They drive back to Santana's house and Santana puts Real Housewives on, and they sit on her bed, watching it and drinking the vodka.

When they open the bottle, Brittany starts playing with Santana's fingers. A quarter of the way through the bottle and she pulls Santana into her side, wrapping her arm around Santana's waist. Halfway and Brittany lays them down, pulling Santana closer to her. When they're almost finished, Brittany pulls up the bottom of Santana's shirt and starts running her fingers across the bottom of Santana's ribcage.

Every time Brittany moves them, Santana hums a little and adjusts herself into her best friend, never taking her eyes off the television. It's not until Brittany finishes off the bottle and kisses her that Santana seems to realize what's going on, but Brittany doesn't let her think about it, rolling on top of her and grinding her hips down.

Santana gasps into her mouth and wraps her legs around Brittany's hips, and Brittany smiles, knowing she's got her for the night.

[*]

After the third or fourth time they do it outside of parties, it starts bothering Brittan that they only ever have sex when Santana is drunk. There's no way Santana doesn't know she wants her by now, so why does it take her an entire bottle of alcohol to let Brittany touch her?

Brittany knows she can't just ask about it, and there really isn't anyone for her to talk about this with, but by the time she's seriously frustrated by the situation, Santana decides to mess up whatever Quinn and Puck have going ("Puck's mine, Santana says, but Brittany hears, "if I don't act like I want Puck, people will ask why"). Brittany remembers Quinn covering for them with Puck a while ago, and all the times she's seen Quinn checking her out since, and she thinks the last thing Quinn needs is someone else stepping into her life. Brittany loves Santana, but she knows that the San she's in love with and the Santana that rips people apart are two different people, and the Santana that Quinn gets is the one who smirks when she destroys people lives.

"San, leave it," she asks softly, sitting on the edge of Santana's bed and watching her text Quinn.

"The last thing I need is some closet case getting all up ons my man, Britt-Britt," Santana says, finishing the text and starting another.

"You haven't been with Puck in weeks, San," Brittany tries, watching Santana tense up.

"Yeah, well, maybe I should fix that, so he remembers whose property he is," Santana says under her breath.

Brittany bites her lip hard and stares down at the floor. If Santana just has sex with Puck to make him her property, then what does that make them having sex? Brittany has been Santana's since they were five and Santana proposed to her, but she doesn't want to be Santana's like Puck is.

"Britt," Santana sits next to her, their thighs touching. "It's not like that."

Brittany turns away, biting down harder on her lip and crossing her arms. Santana reaches over to turn her head back, and their eyes meet for half a second (_I love you, I just can't do this,_her eyes say, and Brittany can't help sniffling a little).

She lets Santana kiss her, and this time Santana is the one to tug at her until they're curled up together on Brittany's bed, kissing slowly because Santana can't say what she means out loud (_You'll never be Puck to me,_her hands moving through Brittany's hair tell her) and Brittany won't force her.

[*]

Santana doesn't listen, not that Brittany thought she would, and Quinn starts coming over to Santana's so she can get Spanish help ("Britt wants you to come study with us," Santana texts, but all three of them know Santana just wants Quinn away from Puck). Quinn seems as happy as Quinn gets to be there with them instead of with Finn or Puck, so Brittany wouldn't care much, except that Quinn coming over gives Brittany and Santana less time for sweet lady kisses.

Every time Quinn rings Santana's doorbell, Brittany is close to getting Santana's clothes off, and every time, Brittany has to cross her legs and keep Santana from being too mean to Quinn, instead of having sex with her best friend.

It's starting to get really frustrating - until Brittany notices the look on Quinn's face when she comes over.

Brittany doesn't understand it. Not at first. She knows that Santana is softer and more relaxed after they've been kissing, but that doesn't explain why Quinn flushes and looks away every time Santana says something in Spanish that Quinn doesn't understand, or why she bites her lip when Brittany stretches her hands up over her head and Quinn sees a hickey Santana left.

Then she remembers Quinn when she saw them in Puck's bedroom. It's the same look, just without alcohol, and Brittany understands.

She just doesn't know what to do now.

[*]

It turns out that she doesn't have to do anything at all, because Quinn snaps on Santana during Cheerios practice ("if you want to stay on my squad, you're going to start acting like you care," Quinn yells, but Brittany knows she's thinking, _why you? Why do you have someone that loves you and I don't?_), Brittany uses the one surefire way she knows how to make Santana feel better, and Quinn walks in on them.

Brittany knows Santana forgot Quinn was supposed to come study with them, but Brittany didn't. She thought she locked the door, but she forgets even more things than usual when Santana is burning under her skin, and now Santana is straddling her hips and Quinn is staring, and Brittany really just doesn't understand.

Santana and Quinn have been pretending they don't want this since middle school, but now Santana's naked in her arms and Quinn is bright red and breathing hard, and Brittany knows that they would both freak out if Quinn joined in, so she just tells Quinn that she can watch.

Santana acts shocked, but it only takes her a few seconds to move so she can slip her fingers inside Brittany, and Brittany looks up to meet Santana's eyes. Santana's scared, but her fingers are gentle, and Brittany lets out a moan, rocking up to kiss Santana once before looking back to Quinn.

Quinn is just as scared as Santana, but Brittany can't think about that, not when Santana's thumb is rubbing and her other hand is fisted in Brittany's hair, and oh -

Her eyes close, then open to catch Quinn's again. She doesn't have to look at Santana to know what's going through her mind (_this could wreck us, B,_her body's shaking says, and Brittany starts stroking Santana's side to calm her down), but Quinn isn't saying anything.

Brittany knows she could rescue them both by saying something "Brittanyish", but she's not playing dumb this time. These are her two best friends, and this is too important for her to say something about ducks that doesn't mean anything just to make them relax.

When Quinn picks up her books and sits next to Santana's bed instead of freaking out, Brittany is proud of her. She gets Santana to roll off her and she curls up on her side facing Quinn. Santana disappears into the shower behind her, but Brittany's not worried about her. She'll have plenty of time to handle Santana. She doesn't know Quinn like she knows Santana, but she knows that Santana will do anything she asks; with Quinn, you have to move fast.

Santana's bathroom door closes behind her, and Brittany leans down to grab Quinn. She means to just pull her into bed next to her, but she ends up kissing her, and when Quinn leans into the kiss, she knows she did the right thing. From there, it's easy to get Quinn curled up with her, and Quinn relaxes when Brittany starts reading the Spanish book and playing with her hair.

It's even easier to get Santana into bed with them, and Brittany wants to soak up the warmth of her friends like a cat in the sun, but she knows they're not ready for that yet, so she keeps reading Spanish to Quinn, and they stay like that until Quinn has to go.

The door closes behind Quinn, and Brittany turns to face Santana. She knows better than to try to talk about this, because Santana is so bad at talking about anything that means something, so she kisses her instead. For once, it's Santana who pulls her closer, and Brittany cuddles in, smiling into the kiss.

They lay in bed kissing until they fall asleep, and Brittany knows that even though Santana and Quinn will lie to themselves tomorrow, tonight they all understand each other, and there aren't words in any language she knows for how happy that makes her.


	5. With Bated Breath

**Note: This chapter takes place after the past four. **

Okay, so, Glee is decent, but like, seriously boring.

Santana knows Britt is actually learning something about singing, but even _Quinn_ is at a higher vocal level than what they're being taught - and that bitch hasn't sung a note outside of her car since her parents canceled her vocal lessons because of her deviated septum - and the dancing? Pathetic.

Her best friend is going to be a professional dancer someday, and all three of them have been doing harder routines than this since the first day they joined Cheerios. None of them really need something else Cheerios-level hard in their lives - not that Schue has the iron fist necessary to run them like Coach Sylvester does - but this? This is mind-numbingly boring.

So, she decides to actually have a conversation with Quinn and Britt about it.

"Okay, am I the only one who's bored to death in Glee?" She asks in the middle of Spanish tutoring (and it's actual Spanish tutoring this time; she and Britt are a whole foot away from each other).

After a pause, Britt says slowly, "I think I'm getting better at singing."

Santana knows it's true. They can actually harmonize now, instead of Britt just singing under her breath while Santana belts it out and Quinn rolls her eyes - jealous bitch - and now they rock the shit out of some angry-girl alternative (and also blues; every time Adele's Chasing Pavements comes on, Santana has this uncomfortable stabbing pain in her gut that she's 100% not ready to deal with yet).

Quinn gives Britt a searching look but doesn't say anything, and Santana goes on, "yeah, but Britt, I don't know how you sit through the dancing. I mean, you could choreograph a million times better than that in your sleep."

Britt nods solemnly. "I could."

Quinn's eyes move back to Santana, and she leans back on the bed. "They wouldn't listen."

Quinn is giving her the _because everyone thinks Brittany is dumb_ look, and Santana's first reaction is to snap on her, but they both know Quinn is right.

"They would if I were a grown-up," Brittany says, her eyes lowering to the floor. (Before Santana can say or do anything to make it better), Britt bounces up and kisses Santana on the cheek before saying, "I'm going to go make some popcorn."

(Santana's cheeks flare and) Quinn's eyes follow Brittany out, then she turns to Santana. "Look. We both know that if Coach Sylvester and Mr. Schue didn't think she's stupid, they would have Britt choreographing everything."

Santana sighs and rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. (She wants to defend Britt, but Quinn isn't saying she thinks Britt's dumb because Quinn knows better, so) Santana crosses her legs and says, "we'll have to come up with something else, because I am _not_ going to die of fucking boredom while we wait for Hudson to take his eyes off Berry."

Quinn's eyes flash warning, and she throws her a cutting look. It's whatever. If Quinn can talk about how it's obvious everyone thinks Britt is dumb, Santana can talk about how it's obvious that the Jolly Green Giant wants all up ons Santa's Ugliest Helper. (Santana willingly doesn't see the parallels and instead concentrates on the task at hand).

"Let's google that shit," Santana suggests, and pulls out her laptop, leaning back against Brittany's headboard.

By the time Britt gets back (with popcorn made exactly how Santana likes it), they've got a plan formed, and the three of them giggle about it between mouthfuls of popcorn.

[*]

It's ridiculously easy to corner Berry and get her to pitch their idea like it's hers. One easily-convinced hobbit and a few cutting comments from Quinn later, and Schue is neutered.

Nothing changes for a few weeks, but Santana can be patient. It dawns on her one day that if Dakota Stanley is as good as his website thinks he is, he'll completely massacre the Glee clubbers. She congratulates herself on being so completely fucking awesome, and when Coach Sylvester agrees, it's basically sealed.

A little more fiddling with Rachel Berry's head, moving in on Mercedes Jones and flamingly-faggotronic Kurt Hummel, and they're good.

Then the trace she put out on Puck's credit comes back, and suddenly she could give less of a shit.

She needs

(someone who won't care that she's fucking Britt -

the perfect beard - )

someone who will be able to pay for all the awesome shit she wants in her life, and he's obviously not going to be able to be that guy. Who already has a bad credit score at fifteen?

So, she breaks up with him and feels

(better -

worse - )

like she's investing in her future. She'll find somebody else easy enough.

[*]

Then Britt gets busy - something about dance tutoring, and Santana waves her off (because she will never, ever ask to Britt put her before dancing) - and Santana finds herself with, for once, _nothing_ to do.

Puck isn't responding to her texts, Britt is obviously busy, Matt's busy as hell with football, and she doesn't want to hang out with Quinn's high-strung, depressing ass without Britt to lighten shit up.

So she ends up singing a lot more. She would like, go places and do shit, but she doesn't want to move too much after Cheerios practice, and whatever, she has a serious musical backlog to catch up on.

She chills out to Lily Allen and Norah Jones, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling. Occasionally she grabs one of her father's cigars and watches the smoke drift up to stain her walls.

(It's peaceful, and helps her ignore the tension she watches rising in Quinn, and how it makes her anxious to be away from Britt for too long.

She knows something big is coming. She just doesn't want to deal with it.)

[*]

Single Ladies happens.

She watches the dancing jerseys and somehow even Hudson is rocking the shit out of it. There's at least a thousand pounds of rippling man-flesh bouncing to Beyonce, and she isn't sure she'll ever be able to breathe again from how hard she's laughing

They actually win the game (and Santana gets swept up in the moment and ends up hugging the shit out of Brittany for like five straight minutes), and Santana has to admit that maybe Hummel is good for more than just standing around prissily while other people do the real work.

There's no way the Titans will ever actually be worthy of the Cheerios' routines, but maybe they'll actually be able to tell people at Nationals what team they cheer for, because they're not a complete fucking disgrace anymore.

It's actually a pretty awesome thought.

[*]

The night after the game, she shows up at Matt's uncle's - he's there more than he's at his parents' house anyway - and lets herself in. He's on the couch playing Call of Duty like she figured he would be, and she slouches in the doorway until he looks up.

His face lights up, and he drops the controller next to him, not bothering to warn the people he's playing with. Seconds later he's got her in a tight hug (and she kind of feels like a bitch for not being around more often; she knows he'll lock himself away and only come out for school and football if she and Mike let him), and she's laughing and slapping at his arm when he picks her up.

"So, does this make you a single lady?" Santana smirks when he lets go, falling onto his couch and swinging her legs up to be in his lap.

He smiles and gets that face that dark-complected people do when they're blushing, and shakes his head. "See, that's why I didn't tell you."

She digs her heel into his thigh playfully and says, "if you want to be a lady, Ruthers, I'm sure we can hook you up with Puck. He's decent in the sack."

Matt tilts his head at her. "I thought you guys were together."

She shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting her eyes to the television. "His credit score sucks."

(Matt knows her well enough to know she's lying, but he also knows her well enough to know pushing her won't do anything but piss her off. It's probably why they've been friends so long.)

After a few seconds, she shrugs and looks back to him, demanding, "show me."

He laughs and gets up, stretching his arms over his head while he queues up the song on his ipod. "Shut up, I had to have it for football," he teases, stepping into the middle of the room.

Matt kills it, of course, and even though she already saw half the Titans doing it, it's still just as funny when it's Ruthers going solo.

"Maybe you should join Glee," she tells him, putting her feet back in his lap when he sits back down.

"Mike was talking about it," he shrugs, grabbing the controller and reaching under an end table to get her one. "So, I might."

Santana snorts and logs into her XBOX Live account. "Maybe if you and Mike join, we'll get some dance routines that don't make me want to kill myself."

"You think?" Matt asks, starting an online game.

"I think I'm about to snipe the shit out of you," she taunts, rearranging herself so she can concentrate on the game.

She does, and he shoves her off the couch, and it's good.


	6. Expanding Her Domain

**Notes: As always, thanks to my amazing beta Bella, without whom this story would look much different. For more Break And Bend related content, take a look at my tumblr (fallintolife).**

Glee is actually pretty cool.

She doesn't really get a chance to dance very much when it doesn't have to be perfect, and it's fun. Dance recitals and competitions are good, and Cheerios is fine when Santana and Quinn aren't trying to kill each other, but at Glee she's the best dancer they have. All she really has to do is sleepwalk through Mr. Schue's boring routines for the big numbers, and improvise whatever she wants for the small ones.

It's kind of funny that it's her dancing that really gets her talking to the other Gleeks.

It's just after practice, and Santana ran outside to get the car started since it's cold, and Quinn has already left, so Brittany is, for once, in the choir room without either one of them. She's doing her cooldown stretches so she doesn't cramp when they're in the car, when she hears footsteps behind her.

"Your dancing is fantastic," Kurt says confidently.

Brittany turns, head cocked. She can get away with talking to Kurt if it's about a number or to fix his dancing, but most of the time, Santana drags her away before she can really have a conversation with him. She knows he's only safe to talk to her because Santana will be gone for another couple minutes, but she really thought he would be too scared to try even then.

"You're trained, aren't you?" He asks curiously. One arm is folded across his body, the other one propped on top of it, his finger tapping his lip (_I will acknowledge and respect talent wherever I may find it_, Brittany thinks his body is saying).

"Mmhmm," Brittany hums, going into a side lunge and peeking up at him from it. "Since I could walk. Hip-hop, lyrical, ballet, and Mike taught me some pop'n'lock last summer."

"Do you know the routine to Single Ladies?" Kurt asks, his eyes following her as she shifts to the other leg.

Brittany scoffs. "Since the first live performance."

"Would you be willing to teach me?" Kurt reaches up to fix his hair with the lip-tapping hand, watching her stretch out her hamstrings. "I looked at some tutorials online, but I think I'm missing the... finer points. I'm trying to do a video with Tina-"

"Oh, I'll totally be in your video," Brittany cuts in, standing up from her stretch and bouncing on her toes. She knows he wasn't asking her, but she already loves the idea of getting to do a video with Kurt and Tina, who are both adorable but on Santana's social suicide list.

Kurt's eyes light up, even though his face stays the same, and he says, "would you? Excellent. My house, tomorrow after school?"

"Awesome," Brittany smiles, catching sight of Santana over his shoulder. "I gotta go."

She would love to hug him, but Santana's right there, so she just smiles wider and grabs their bags, bouncing past him.

[*]

"Hey, Britt."

Britt turns, a smile already forming when she sees Santana standing at her locker. Her first instinct is to lean forward and kiss her, but she holds it in. She settles for bouncing on her toes a little, and saying back, "hey."

"Do you want to..." Santana licks her lips, pushing up an eyebrow, "maybe watch Sweet Valley High tonight?"

Britt swallows. Santana's eyes drop to her lips, then move back to her eyes, and Britt can see the slight flush on her cheeks. She doesn't need anyone to tell her what Santana wants, or what she's asking for, and her mouth has already opened to say yes when she remembers that she's going to Kurt's after school.

"Sorry,Britt smiles, putting an apology in it. "I've got...she makes a snap decision, knowing that Santana won't approve of her tutoring Kurt and Tina, "dance stuff."

Santana's smile drops, but she nods. Her eyes dart either way to check the hallway, and when it's mostly empty she leans up on her toes to wrap her arms around Brittany's neck.

Brittany's eyes close, and she breathes in the topnote of Santana's perfume, with Santana's own scent lingering below that. They stay pressed together for longer than either of them would hug other people (Britt would hug Quinn like that, but there's no way Quinn would let her), then Santana presses a soft kiss just below her ear.

"Have fun," Santana smiles, then walks off toward her car.

Brittany watches her go, a half-smile on her face.

[*]

Kurt comes to the door, his eyes dropping down her body then back up. His head tilts, and he says, "I- wow."

Brittany dips her head, looking down at the ground. She shifts her backpack on her shoulder and shuffles her feet.

"No, it's... you look good," Kurt says quickly, "I just didn't know you owned clothing that wasn't the uniform. Good to know you can wear something other than Satan's armor."

Brittany looks up to see a fleeting smile on Kurt's face, then he turns, opening the door to let her follow after him.

Tina is downstairs, sitting comfortable in a white wicker egg-thing that reminds Brittany of Men In Black. "Are you going to take all my memories with a flashy pen?" Britt jokes, setting her backpack with her laptop in it on a desk.

Tina and Kurt look at each other, and Britt takes a deep breath before pulling up the song on Kurt's ipod and stepping into the middle of the room.

Tina is actually really good ("I'm bad with instruments, so my parents signed me up for vocal and dance lessons," Tina smiles hesitantly, "it's an A-A-A-Asian thing.") but Kurt... isn't. He's not Finn levels of needing teaching, but he's seriously stiff, and half of what Brittany tells him is some version of "loosen up

Still, by the time they're done, she feels accomplished. They're about a third of the way through the routine, and when she tells them that, Kurt smiles faintly and Tina beams.

"So, when are you free next?" Kurt asks, looking between the two of them. "Most of my plans are... able to be rescheduled, but I know you two have more specific plans than I do."

"I have Art Club afterschool on Tuesdays," Tina says, putting back on her messenger bag, "but that's only an hour."

"I have Cheerios every day but the weekend," Brittany says apologetically, "and dance every night but Thursdays."

"Next Saturday, then?" Kurt suggests, his eyes flicking to Tina.

"Sure," Tina agrees easily, looking to Brittany.

"Definitely," Brittany bounces, and Kurt quirks his head (_I'm too dignified to smile, but I am pleased with this turn of events_, Brittany thinks).

"Saturday," Kurt confirms. "It was lovely having you Brittany; you're very talented and should probably be choreographing our numbers instead of Mr. Schue."

Britt's smile fades a little, and the words echo in her head during the entire ride home. Kurt had said it knowing that would never happen, and she knew it was because Schuester thought she was stupid.

Along with everyone but Santana and Quinn.

[*]

"Okay, am I the only one who's bored to death in Glee?"Santana asks.

There's two Spanish textbooks and one notebook between the three of them. They're sitting on Brittany's bed, Santana against the headboard, Quinn at the other end, and Brittany stretched out between them.

She looks up at Santana's face, which is less confident than her usual but not disgusted, which means she's probably not about to pitch them quitting Glee. Brittany isn't really sure where she's going, so she leads her along with, "I think I'm getting better at singing."

Santana shifts a little, and says, "yeah, but Britt, I don't know how you sit through the dancing. I mean, you could choreography a million times better than that in your sleep."

It's so much like what Kurt said that it sends a spike through Brittany's stomach, and instead of deflecting or smiling, Brittany says seriously, "I could," because it's true.

Brittany feels Quinn's weight shift backward on the bed, and Quinn says, "they wouldn't listen," which hurts even though she knows _Quinn_ would listen.

"They would if I were a grown-up," Britt says quietly. She's getting tired of saying things that are both true and hurt, because the truth isn't supposed to hurt, and she doesn't want to hear either Quinn or Santana try to make her feel better, so she stops them. Santana's mouth closes when Brittany kisses her cheek, and Quinn's eyes follow the twitching of her skirt when she walks out to make popcorn, and then it's Brittany and her feelings alone in the stairwell.

It's hurt and a little bit of indignation, and some more hurt directed at Quinn and Santana for not standing up for her against Schue and everyone else, but Brittany does _not want to deal with it, _so she leaves the feelings in the stairwell and makes popcorn.

Popcorn, she can do. It's life that's starting to get hard.

[*]

The second and third rehearsals with Kurt and Tina are just as awesome as the first one.

Kurt's starting to let her see his smiling, and Tina isn't stuttering as much, and even though they both reluctantly admit to being sore at the end of their practices, she can tell they're enjoying it anyway.

It's nice, having something in her life that's going right, and people who appreciate her for exactly what she knows she's good at, and don't demand anything more.

[*]

"Brittany?"

Brittany turns to face her geometry teacher. His shoulders are tight, and his arms are crossed across his chest. She watches as he fights not to bite his lip, and she waits for him to say something.

"Can you... come talk to me for a second? I'll write you a note for your next class," he says after a few seconds. Sweat starts to bead on his upper lip, and Brittany gives her ignore-me-I'm-an-airhead smile and nods, walking in after him.

"Brittany..." he shuffles a few papers on his desk and clears his throat before looking up at her, "do you know the difference between a triangle and a rectangle?"

Anger flares hot inside her. She learned her shapes before she got to grade school. She was one of the _first _ones who got everything right, and was able to draw an apple next to a heart and not mess them up. She's not _stupid_ (the words "not stupid" run through her mind on repeat all through her internal rant), and kids who don't understand the difference between their shapes should be in those special classes that help you with the basic stuff, because there's probably something wrong with their minds. Those kids aren't stupid, just different, but the looks everyone at McKinley give her say _you're dumb,_ not _you're differently abled_, and she's getting sick of it.

She looks at him and sees the terror in his eyes. It's not directed at her, unlike the kind-of-parent-like concern, and she gets it. He's worried about her, but scared of Coach Sylvester, so he's trying to help but doesn't know if he should be.

Then she realizes that because of Coach Sylvester, he's going to pass her no matter what, but if she admits she understands almost everything going on in class right now, she'll have to start doing homework and projects and stuff. Her anger fights with her liking for free time, and the liking for free time wins.

"Triangles have three angles, right?" She says finally, re-visiting the ignore-me-I'm-an-airhead smile. He brightens a little, and then she adds, "so, rectangles have... rect angles? How many is rect?"

He slumps, and mumbles, "they have four angles. And four sides."

"That's silly, because four is quad, isn't it?" Brittany asks, unable to stop herself from sticking that little bit in there, "so they should be quadrangles, not rectangles."

"There are quadrangles, but they're not-"

"I get it, thanks," Brittany plasters on a fake smile and skips out of the office, because her anger is starting to return, and honestly, she doesn't even know what to do with it.

[*]

After the fourth rehearsal, Kurt and Tina have it down, and they record the video.

Kurt's dad comes in near the end, and Brittany and Tina have to cover for him, but they do get it done, and it's perfect in two takes. They're done early, actually, and when they're all changed back into their normal clothes, Brittany offers to give Tina a ride home, since her parents don't get off work for another hour.

"This is really n-n-n-nice of you," Tina comments when they're on the road.

"You're not that far from me," Brittany says back, "I don't mind."

"Not just that," Tina shakes her head, looking at Brittany from the corner of her eye, "I mean, you teaching Kurt and me the choreography."

"I love dancing, and you guys are nice," Brittany says. She knows it's not what Tina was really saying ("You are so cool for hanging out with us", which Brittany doesn't understand and gets perfectly all at once), but Tina just smiles and drops it.

Brittany plugs her number into Tina's phone before she gets out of the car, and when Tina texts her twenty minutes later, Brittany is hoping that this is the beginning of a friendship where she doesn't have to worry about falling in love with them.

[*]

"Kurt's been teaching us the choreo for Single Ladies," Mike comments, when they're doing warmup stretches in the studio.

"Cool," Brittany grins, happy Kurt got it well enough to teach other people.

"You're not upset?" Mike asks wonderingly, stretching his arms above his head.

"Why would I be?" Brittany asks, cocking her head. "It's not my choreography, it's JaQuel Knight's."

"Yeah, but you're the one who taught him, and he's not giving you any credit," Mike pushes.

Brittany shrugs. "He doesn't say who taught him to sing every time he's in a Glee number, either."

Mike looks at her sideways, but leaves it alone. They do lifts until Matt gets there, then she teaches both of them the rest of the Single Ladies choreography so they'll have it down in time for the game.

[*]

Single Ladies is amazing, of course. It's kind of sad that Matt and Mike don't get to do it with Puck and Finn, but the rest of the Titans look good.

When Finn comes over to kiss Quinn, Santana throws her arms around Brittany's neck and hugs her tightly. Brittany laughs and drops her poms, not caring that Coach Sylvester will kill her for it. Santana is warm and soft and cuddly, and Brittany rests her cheek on top of Santana's head, closing her eyes.

Santana eventually pulls away, and Brittany looks up to see Puck staring at Quinn. His helmet hangs from a single finger, and she's never seen him look so... _destroyed_. She can't even think of a funny way to put it, he looks that hurt. Then he walks away, head hung low, and Brittany turns to Quinn in concern.

"Did you see Puck? He looks really sad," Brittany asks her.

Santana snorts and opens her mouth (probably to say something about her breaking up with him), when Quinn snaps, "I don't give a shit about Puck right now," and stalks away.

She and Santana stare after Quinn. They don't say anything, but when Santana meets her eyes, Brittany knows Santana is just as worried, even if she's not going to admit it.


	7. Stress Fractures

Something has to give.

Quinn knows it; she can feel it in Santana's growing tension, in Brittany's dimming sunniness, and in Finn's steadily wandering eye.

Brittany's spending more time with _Kurt Hummel_ of all people, Santana is spending more time with Puck, and Quinn is trying to spend more time with Finn without having to kiss him, but it's not working well.

(During that time, she learns how to use kissing as a weapon, to complement her shield of religion; she can get Finn worked up enough that he stops looking at Rachel Berry for a few days, then claim a prayer break when he starts to get handsy. It's working for now, but she doesn't know how long that's going to last.)

She feels so plastic and brittle these days; everything is a mask, and she's started to forget who the Quinn underneath it is. Brittany helps her remember, sometimes, when she's laying in bed with her and Santana (but it doesn't always help to remember that person. Sometimes it just makes her wonder if she could have someone love her like Santana loves Brittany, if maybe she were true to herself like Brittany always is), but it disappears like morning mist the second they're out of bed and she and Santana put on their school masks.

It builds up.

She watches Santana-and-Brittany be so fucking _perfect_ (and yes, in the back of her mind she knows that they're a lesbian couple in one of the most homophobic parts of the country, but she doesn't care, because if she had one person, _just one person_ look at her like they look at each other-) and Finn look at Rachel, and then Puck look at her, and it breaks. Whatever it is, it breaks, and she texts Puck, demanding he come over.

He brings a pack of wine coolers, and smiles (it's 50% "sex shark Puck", 50% "friend Puck", and 100% what she needs right now).

She's not usually a talkative drunk, but between Puck's calm waiting (for her to get drunk, and she knows it but doesn't care) and her own insecurities bubbling up, she tells him just about everything, only she calls it all "feeling fat" (Brittany and Santana make her feel fat, Finn makes her feel fat, even Rachel makes her feel fat).

He just looks at her, and says, "you're not fat."

He means it literally, but drunk!Quinn takes it figuratively. In that moment (and in the half-hour after), "you're not fat" means "you really will get out of Lima", it means "Finn will realize what an idiot he's being", and most of all it means, "someone will love you like Santana and Brittany love each other", and after that-

She half-forgets about it. She was drunk enough that all she really remembers is a flash of pain, and Puck saying he "would take care of it", and she doesn't even remember what context he meant it in. She knows she slept with him - why else would the pain be between her legs? - but it's so easy to ignore it. He doesn't bring it up, she doesn't tell Finn, and life goes on.

Life goes on - until two blue lines on a white background says it doesn't.

(She breaks down. An entire night is spent sobbing into her pillow and going over and over everything she's lost, everything she could have had. The list repeats endlessly in her head - social status, a chance of getting out, having her first child be with someone she actually _likes_ - until she finally falls asleep out of sheer exhaustion, and when she wakes up the next morning, it all starts over again. That entire weekend is spent crying and hiding in her room, ignoring everyone's texts and calls. Only on the last day does she start to form a plan, and it takes her a week to come up with a plan that's going to make this work for her, at least as much as pregnancy will ever work for any fifteen year-old.)

Finn is easy to convince.

All she has to do is play on how dumb he is, and let her feelings out just long enough to fake a breakdown in front of him (and it's scary how close to a real breakdown it is; she feels her plastic thinning and warping at the edges).

Puck is... harder.

It's obvious that Finn told him - and how dare he, but that's something for another day - and she lashes out at him. She knows it's lashing out, and she knows it's heavy-handed for her, the queen of subtle manipulation, but she blames it on the pregnancy hormones (and god, it's hard to even think of it that way, to think of something - someone - growing inside her). She can't help it. They had a chance for something good, if only -

(if only she weren't sick every time she touches a guy, if only she hadn't started out dating his best friend, if only he weren't sleeping with her best friend, if only if only if only)

- but "if only"s won't help her now, and Noah "Cougar Hunter" Puckerman is not the father this child needs. She's made her choice, and she's standing by it.

The thing with Mrs. Schuester is so weird that for one second she forgets that she's completely screwed her life up. She takes the vitamins (and the advice, and anything else Mrs. Schuester is willing to give her, because here is someone who isn't _judging_ her. Here is someone who just wants something from her; territory she's familiar with) and when she gets home, she hides the vitamins in her purse and puts on a fake smile for her father. (That, too, is familiar. She can't remember the last time she genuinely smiled for anyone, least of all her father).

The next time Santana texts her about "studying", she turns her phone off and kneels in front of her bed, praying (she tells herself she's praying for her own soul, but really, she just can't take the way she feels around them on top of being pregnant; it's too much sin all at once, and she's already drowning).

Santana stops texting. Brittany doesn't. It doesn't matter either way, because after that, things really go to shit.

(She doesn't even apologize to Jesus for describing it that way, the way her parents would have wanted her to. "Shit" is the only way she can possibly describe her life at that point, and she dares to think for a few seconds that if Jesus really cared about her life, maybe he wouldn't have let her get pregnant the first time she had sex).


End file.
